


Day 4: Megatron

by GemmaRose



Series: Lost Light Fest 2019 [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fade to Black, Functionist Universe (Transformers), Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 12:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20892473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: Orion Pax is the best scout they have, he's ex-Vanguard, he can defend himself.Megatron wishes telling himself that helped at all when Orion is late coming back from a long mission.





	Day 4: Megatron

Orion was supposed to return yestermeg. Megatron was a busy mech, he had reports to read and decisions to make, Nine-of-Twelve and Terminus and Anode all turned to him eventually, but his processor simply refused to focus on anything but that simple fact. Orion was meant to return yestermeg. But he hadn’t.

It was a risk they ran, every time they sent a mech out to scout the new patrol patterns in their next city and determine which old safehouses were, in fact, still safe. Their scouts were good at blending in, at evading detection and capture, at coming home unharmed and unfollowed. Orion was better than anyone else, it was the reason Megatron had given for putting him in charge of the other scouts, since the truth was far less likely to be accepted at face value. Facts were facts though, and Orion Pax was not a mech Megatron had ever truly considered the AVL might lose. After all, Optimus Prime had survived four million years of war and just as many near-deaths as Megatron himself, and Orion Pax was simply an Optimus who had never become Prime.

He checked his chronometer again, and sat back heavily in his chair. He was getting nothing done, and the cycles were moving by at an acid-snail’s pace. It had been bad enough realizing how much he appreciated Orion’s company when the mech left for this scouting mission. Realizing how much he valued his head scout when the mech was potentially greyed out in a ditch somewhere... he shook his helm, banishing the image from his processor. Orion was not dead, and he had not been captured. The mech Megatron had known across the numerous battlefields of the war, the mech who he’d grown to genuinely care for since being left here on this other Cybertron, he was too skilled not to return.

And besides, some illogical part of his processor chimed in, he’d promised to tell Megatron what he thought of Serpents of the South when he returned. As pre-council literature went it wasn’t particularly good, but it was a damn sight better than anything which had been published since the Council gained full control of the planet and he’d wanted Orion’s opinion on it. Wanted to commiserate about the terrible parts, and to debate the less awful sections. The door to the room he’d claimed as both berthroom and office chimed softly, and he hurriedly picked up a light pen and tried to look busy. He had to set a good example for the rest of the AVL, after all.

“Come in.” he called, and the door opened. “Whatever you have for me, leave it here.” he gestured to the stack of datapads on the left edge of the desk, and heavy pedesteps approached. He was rising from his chair before he fully processed the dust-coated red and blue on the arm reaching past him, and when he turned Orion was standing there, smiling behind his battle mask.

“I apologise for my lateness. There were some Council thugs I had to shake, and-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Megatron shook his helm, clasping Orion’s forearms. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“As I am glad to be home.” Orion’s optics crinkled further at the edges, a proper smile behind his battlemask, and Megatron’s damaged spark casing throbbed as the spark within it spun faster.

Terminus’s infuriatingly smug voice floated through his processor for the umpteenth time. _‘I thought a mech who’s bonded once already would know his own spark. Looks like you’re still the same oblivious bitlet after all.’_

“I missed you.” Megatron said as he let Orion pull away, and the bright flicker of Orion’s field made his spark and casing do funny things in his chassis.

“You did?” he asked, subglyphs so nakedly hopeful Megatron wondered yet again how this mech had ever become the cold, unfeeling Optimus Prime who presided over his trial.

“I did.” Megatron nodded, hands falling to his sides. “It came to my attention, during your absence, that we spend rather a lot of time together. Not that I object in the slightest.” he added hurriedly, and Orion’s almost-drooping shoulders squared up again. “I simply... had not properly evaluated the extent to which your presence has become a constant.”

Orion stared at him, field prickling with confusion, and Megatron forged on. He had no idea what he was saying, nor any clue _why_, but he couldn’t very well back down now. Primus, this was probably what Rodimus felt constantly. “I was... worried, when you did not arrive on time. I had never considered losing you. And when I was forced to-” he vented deeply and shuttered his optics, unable to look Orion in the face as he said this next part. “When I was forced to consider that you may not return, I realized that that was simply not an option I could entertain and continue to function properly.”

“So you’re saying... you like me too?” Orion’s field reached out to press against Megatron’s, hope and adoration warming and brightening it, crashing over Megatron like a wave. Like the first time he’d seen Rodimus really, genuinely smile. He opened his optics, and found Orion’s blue ones locked on them. Not quite matrix-blue, and the red of his paint was darker, but that was good. Orion was not Rodimus, he never would be, and the last thing Megatron needed was for his spark to go likening one to the other.

“Yes, Orion.” he reached out, and Orion caught his hand with shining optics. and a riotous joy overwhelming his field, infectious to the point Megatron couldn’t help but smile back at him. “May I kiss you?”

“_Please_.” Orion’s voice trembled, and Megatron leaned in to press his lips to- Orion’s still-closed battlemask. “Oh, one- just let me-” Orion pulled back, battlemask snapping open to reveal cheeks ever so slightly pinked with blush, and Megatron pulled him close again. Amazing, how Orion could be so like and yet unlike his own alternate self. Megatron could hardly imagine Optimus Prime being flustered at the prospect of a kiss, and yet for Orion it seemed natural as anything.

“You have a lovely face.” he murmured, and _felt_ the increase in heat from Orion’s faceplates as he leaned in to slot his lips tenderly against Orion’s slightly parted ones. Orion’s hands came up to hold onto him quickly enough, one landing on his hip and the other grasping the kibble that ran down the center of his lower back, just over his spinal strut. They parted quickly, and Orion’s hand on his hip shot up to grab the front plate on his shoulder to drag him in for a second kiss, and a third, and fourth.

By the time Megatron managed to pull Orion with him to sit on the edge of his desk, he’d stopped counting. Orion’s hands had moved to either side of his helm, as if the minimal pressure he exerted could hold it still, and Megatron indulged him because he could think of nothing he wanted more right now than Orion in his arms, pressing close and peppering his faceplates with kisses. Well, nothing aside from kissing Orion properly, but every few kisses he managed to capture Orion’s lips and keep him there for a klik or so, and Orion made the most delicious sounds when Megatron’s glossa flirted over his lower lip.

“If you don’t stop that-” Orion gasped as he pulled away, vents heaving massive amounts of air through his warming frame. “I can’t guarantee I won’t make a mess of your desk.”

“Well, we can’t have that.” Megatron grinned, and eased Orion down to the floor. “Shall we move this to the berth?”

Orion’s cooling fans kicking up three gears and his field flaring with excitement were all he needed to start guiding his new partner to the berth. They could discuss fraternization and expectations tomorrow, but tonight Megatron had the mech of his dreams home and safe in his arms, and soon enough hopefully splayed out beneath him on the berth. Tonight, that was more than enough.


End file.
